


Häagen-Dazs

by KuroHikaTsuchi



Category: Leverage, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Drabble Sequence, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Heist, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroHikaTsuchi/pseuds/KuroHikaTsuchi
Summary: Neal and Parker, over the years.
Relationships: Neal Caffrey & Parker (Leverage)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 101
Collections: Crossworks 2020





	Häagen-Dazs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentSilhouette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSilhouette/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> Thanks to my wonderful beta GirlOfSaltAndStars!

_Help wanted: Data entry. 12$/h to start.  
Must be willing to travel, expenses not included.  
+1800-442-8348_  


Those words, taunting him in the morning newspaper. Neal had noticed Peter none so subtly checking his own copy after catching him smiling at the page. He was probably looking for a secret message, a hidden way for criminals to communicate under the radar. A code. 

He was half right. 

It wasn't a code. At least not one of the commonly used ones. But it was a message that only two people in the world would recognize. 

And that message read: “I have it.” 

  


* * *

  


Long before the names Neal and Parker held any meaning to them, two kids met at the park. A boy, searching adventure, and a girl, wanting _out_. 

They didn’t become friends instantly. In fact, they didn’t get along for the longest time. A whole hour. 

It all changed with one event. 

They were minding their own business when an older boy stole her toy bunny. It’s no-one’s fault that the bully was _so_ clumsy, was it? And it definitely wasn’t _Neal’s_ doing that he came back with the plush in hand and some loose change liberated for an ice-cream treat. 

  


* * *

  


They didn’t meet regularly. Parker’s foster parents were strict and getting tired of her disappearing acts. And while Neal had more freedom, he also had more adult supervision in the form of Ellen Parker, his honorary aunt, who liked to accompany him on his outings. 

Neither of them had a set schedule which made it difficult to plan ahead. What they did have, however, was a tree in the park. It was further away from the playground and its sturdy branches made it perfect for climbing. And even better for hiding messages in the tree hollow, away from prying eyes. 

  


* * *

  


“You’re my best friend! I’ll never forget you! We’ll see each other again, I —” Neal started, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“Parker. ” 

“What?” 

“I’m gonna be Parker. I don’t want to use _that_ name anymore.” 

“Ok. Parker. I- I like it.” 

They shared a smile, holding hands for the last time in a very long while. 

When Parker followed the CPS agent into her car, her toy bunny clutched in a death grip, she turned back to see Neal and Ellen waving at her, both crying. 

Parker stepped into the car and waved back, eyes wet with tears. 

  


* * *

  


Paris, the City of Light, the one place that’s on every tourist’s bucket list. And also on every thief’s. 

With its abundance of museums and art galleries, Paris is a hotspot for art theft and even something of an initiation into the world of international notoriety for any aspiring criminal. 

It was really no wonder that Neal and Parker happened to run into each other there. 

They were both casing the Musée d’Orsay (Neal for a Monet to forge and Parker for a Manet to steal) when they literally bumped into each other. The rest, as they say, is history. 

  


* * *

  


From then on, it was as if the fates conspired against them (or for them) and they met again in the unlikeliest of places (including, but limited to, an ice cream factory in France, vents in a Las Vegas casino and a zoo in Antwerp). 

Sometimes they were on a job in the same location, sometimes even chasing the same object, but more often than not, they simply encountered each other by happenstance. 

Sometimes they collaborated, other times they competed for the job. 

But every time they met, there was one thing they did without fail: they got ice-cream together. 

  


* * *

  


Neither of them is entirely certain when the Game began, but both agree that it is important to them. 

Although, Neal maintains that Parker is the one who started it when she stole _it_ from his temporary apartment in Brussels. The theft itself wouldn’t have bothered him all that much if it wasn’t for the message that accompanied it. 

A declaration of war. 

And so the Game started. An endless chase to steal the prize and hold on to it for as long as possible. Anything goes, nothing is prohibited in this pursuit. Which did get them into trouble sometimes. 

  


* * *

  


Over the years, the Game evolves. _It_ is hidden more carefully, traps are laid down to impede the adversary and decoys become standard to make it ever more challenging. 

And if Neal ends up trailing glitter for several days that one time in Chicago, well, it’s all in good fun. Where did Parker find biodegradable neon pink glitter he doesn’t want to know, but he does become more cautious of combination safes for a while afterwards. 

He forgives her, but he doesn’t forget. (Next round, Parker dodges the flying pie just in time to be soaked by a water balloon.) 

  


* * *

  


Four months into his sentence, Neal received a letter. All his mail was screened by guards before delivery and he was certain that if the FBI had ever read it, it would have raised a lot of red flags. 

There was no return address for the letter and the sender was only identifiable by a single initial, but it didn’t matter because he would have been able to recognize that particular handwriting anywhere. 

_Neal,_

_I’ll wait for our game. See you when you’re out._

_P._

The letter was one of the only things he took with him when he escaped. 

  


* * *

  


“You came to my apartment to check that June isn’t evil? Parker, we’ve talked about this. I hope you didn’t scare her too badly.” 

Parker pouts. “It’s no fun! She didn’t even react when I came down from the ceiling! She just…” she trailed off, biting her lip. 

“She just what?” Neal asked. 

“She just asked if I wanted cookies. Neal, she’s so nice! Why didn’t you tell me before? I want cookies too! You can’t just keep her to yourself!” 

Neal sighs, shaking his head with a small smile. “Well, come on then. I’ll introduce you. Properly this time.” 

  


* * *

  


“Wait! Someone’s inside,” Eliot warned, taking point before they could enter their hotel room. 

He cautiously went through the door. At first glance, everything looked untouched. The only thing out of place was a man in a gray suit and dark fedora sitting in the dark. He was holding the package he’d seen Parker play around with since they got to New York. 

“Hello, Parker.” the stranger announced with a smile. 

Parker rushed from behind Eliot and jumped at the intruder, embracing him. 

“Who the hell is this?!” demanded Hardison. 

Parker beamed at him, saying “This is Neal, my brother.” 

  


* * *

  


“I like your team,” Neal said, eyes focused on a distant point on the horizon. 

Neal and Parker were sitting on the hotel’s rooftop, letting their legs sway over the edge of the building. 

“Yeah, they… they’re good,” Parker answered. It went unsaid but both of them knew that she liked them too. 

“Good. I’m glad that you finally have someone like that.” 

They sat in silence for some time, looking out at the buzzing city. 

Neal suddenly stood up and held out his hand to Parker. 

“Häagen-Dazs?” 

Parker’s face split into a wide smile as she took his hand. 


End file.
